Just the Two of Us: Erie, Pennsylvania, is enchanting any season

Buffalo and Cleveland are cities on the lake. Erie, Pennsylvania, is a city of the lake.

Almost all culture, history and industry of this burg of 104,000 extends from its location on the southernmost reaches of Lake Erie, where it is hugged by a hook-shaped sandy peninsula called Presque Isle. At the dawn of the republic, Erie was a ship building site. After industrialization, it became a port where merchandise was unloaded and sent through a nexus of rail lines. Today, it is a low-rent tourist mecca that sees parades of RVs, Harleys and family station wagons from the day the sheets of ice on the water begin to crack until the first snow. Its attractions include beaches, boats, a nautical museum, a water park, and an observation tower overlooking (you guessed it) the lake.

Erie being defined by the lake was unfortunate when the lake was synonymous with industrial waste and sewer discharges. In the bad old days, swimming was banned within Presque Isle Bay, which absorbed much of the city’s industrial muck.

Fly fishing in Elk Creek.

But, like most of the lake, the waters around Erie have made an impressive recovery since the passage of Clean Water Act and the carpeting of the lake bottom with water-filtrating zebra mussels. Because Erie had so much at stake, it was especially dedicated to getting its act together, and in 2002, Presque Isle Bay became the first place ever delisted from the Great Lakes Areas of Concern, a program implemented by the environmental agencies of the U.S. and Canada. Since 2007, a group of swimmers has traversed the bay in celebration of its improvement.

Today, the water is a deep, gorgeous blue (with a hint of algae green), and parts of tree-lined Presque Isle, near the bird nesting sanctuary at its tip, look as if they have been untouched since pre-Colonial times. City fathers of Erie past had the good sense not to develop much on the peninsula itself, other than a few lighthouses, Coast Guard stations, and one loop of a road, with a biking/rollerblading trail off it its side.

And Erie’s grimy past does have one upside: The city never developed into a retreat for Pittsburgh doctors and Toledo lawyers. Erie is a definitively working-class town, one that sees more visitors stay in tents and RVs than at its Marriott or a bed and breakfast. Along its main drags of 12th and 26th streets, no-frills bars cater to vacationers and students from Mercyhurst College and Gannon University (with patios so patrons can catch lake breezes) and retro-style diners and the occasional Applebee’s serve families who’ve made a Griswold-esque sojourn to Waldameer Park, Erie’s amusement/water park. Kayaks and aluminum fishing boats vastly outnumber sailboats and yachts. Fishing, the nautical equivalent of bowling in terms of its socioeconomic audience, is sacrosanct in Erie. The casual beach atmosphere extends to locals’ habit of entering bars and convenience stores shirtless.

Lakeside life continues in Erie far past summer. Presque Isle is tree-lined and the area around the city is hilly, resulting in a gorgeous leaf season. Several fall festivals — from September’s city-wide Wine Country Harvest Festival to the Halloween week Erie Horror Film Festival — take advantage of the backdrop. And when the lake freezes over, it offers a vast tundra for ice fishing. In January, the ice is so thick, fishermen light fires for warmth and let them burn all afternoon.

Perry Monument in the fall.

If Erie seems obsessed with its shoreline, it’s because it has quite a lot. Jutting off the mainland as a thin strip, 3,000-acre Presque Isle essentially gives Erie three shores. The shore on Presque Isle faces the lake, one of beaches and rolling waves. The shore on the opposite side of the landmass faces the city and is dotted with parks, piers and ponds. Lastly, the shore on the mainland itself boasts Erie’s brick-and-mortar attractions. Each of the three has a unique character.

The Presque Isle shore facing the lake is a surreal site: a vast sandy beach in Pennsylvania. Stone jetties sit off the shore, protecting swimmers from the sometimes vicious waves of Lake Erie. Lifeguards are on duty during most park hours during the swimming season. Every evening at sunset, couples secure spots and watch the sun slowly submerge into the water in a haze of orange and pink. Another favorite activity on this edge of the peninsula is combing for beach glass: bits of glass that leave the shore as littered bottles are broken down and reshaped by waves and come back as smooth, glittery stone-like objects.

The shore on the other side of Presque Isle, facing the mainland, holds a tranquil bay and a system of ponds within the peninsula itself. It’s perfect for kayaking, canoeing and paddle-boarding. (Only expert paddlers should venture into the lake itself and only on the calmest days.) Luckily, there is a boat rental station near Graveyard Pond (named so for the Colonial-era cemetery next to it). If you’ve got the stamina, try this route: Row along the rocky shoreline, past the pier dotted with fishermen and women, and up to the mouth of the bay, where a tip of the peninsula is just a few yards from a thumb-shaped extension of the mainland. Take a left at the lighthouse and suddenly, you will be on Thompson Bay, a pocket bay off the main one, featuring a vast expanse of undeveloped sandy shores and cradling a cool, lagoon-like pool of water. Those looking for a less taxing way to see the sights can get on board the Lady Kate, a cruise boat that departs on 90-minute tours from the Bay of Misery (another ominous name, this one coming from the harsh winter Naval officers suffered there after the War of 1812).

On the mainland shore are Erie’s manmade attractions. Near the entrance of Presque Isle is century-old Waldameer Park, where ride tickets are purchased a la carte, perfect if you and your squeeze just want to catch a ride on the Steel Dragon and go. Waldameer’s next-door neighbor is the Tom Ridge Environmental Center. (Remember Tom Ridge, the first secretary of homeland security and the inventor of the color-coded terror alert levels? He was also a governor of Pennsylvania.)

The U.S. Brig Niagara, part of the Erie Maritime Museum.

But for my money, the best educational experience in Erie is closer to downtown: The Erie Maritime Museum. It’s small, the work of a few civil-minded local historians, but it tells a fascinating story from America’s most overlooked conflict, the War of 1812. The U.S. Navy established a shipyard in Presque Isle Bay, where shallow waters protected it from the British fleet and allowed for the building a sea squadron capable of bulldozing the Brits at the Battle of Lake Erie. The museum’s centerpiece is a life-sized replica of the flagship, the U.S.S. Lawrence. For naval warfare dorks, it’s remarkable stuff, not made tired by infinite retellings on the History Channel. While you are there, take a trek up to the observation deck of Bicentennial Tower, the lookout that accents Erie’s skyline in the way the Space Needle defines Seattle’s.

The downtown area also has lots of dining options. Erie is fond of stashing restaurants in odd, refurbished locations. There’s Brewerie at Union Square, a micro-pub in a former train station; Alto Cucina, a Nuevo Italian restaurant in a converted family home; and Pufferbelly, a full-service eatery in an old firehouse. Erie’s trendiest spot might be 1201 Kitchen, a Latin/Asian fusion joint located in the city’s former industrial end. On the other end of the spectrum, Erie has many oft-visited diners, such as Sara’s and Sally’s, serving beachgoers the entrance of Presque Isle, and the Zodiac Dinor, with its 50s-style checkerboard floor and zany, multi-colored walls.

But Erie Country’s real strength is less culinary and more oenological: The place is a ripe wine country. 6 Mile Cellars is the only winery in the city itself. But in the nearby country town of North East, there is Penn Shore Vineyards, South Shore Wine Co., Presque Isle Wine Cellars, Courtyard Wineries and a handful of others. Grab a bottle to sip during sundown as you inevitably gravitate back to the lake.